Be Careful What You Wish For
by Ryo-girl
Summary: Dean isn’t adjusting to his new brother as well as John and Mary had hoped. Warning: parental discipline!


Title:Be Careful What You Wish For

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. And I certainly don't have any money so please don't sue 'cause I can't afford a lawyer!

Author's Notes/Warnings: Parental spanking!

* * *

_June 1982_

They'd really known that when Dean insisted he wanted a brother he didn't _really_ want one. He thought he wanted one, like all little kids did at one point, but he didn't _really_.

But they'd been thinking about it for awhile – Dean was starting pre-school soon, the garage was doing well, and they'd always wanted to give Dean at least one sibling. The fact that Dean at least _thought_ he wanted one was just an added bonus.

The early part of the pregnancy, Dean still hadn't quite gotten it. No matter how bright, no 4-year-old could quite grasp "there's a baby in mommy's belly" when Mary's stomach was still flat.

Then, Mary had gotten bigger, and as her belly grew, so did Dean's interest. He'd corner his mom in the kitchen or on the couch and put his hand on her belly, whispering to the baby and telling it to move so Dean could feel him. (And yes, the baby was a _him_. Dean did not take kindly to them even trying to tell him the baby would be a girl. _"What do I need a girl for, daddy? They're all gross! Well except Mommy. Mommy's not gross."_)

When Mary would remind Dean that the baby was probably asleep inside mommy's belly and wouldn't move if he was, Dean would look up at her through those blond curls and tell her, "Yes he will, 'cause I'm his big brother an' he has to do what I say."

The scary part of it was, the baby had yet to remain still under Dean's tiny hand.

Sam's birth went much quicker than Dean's, and Sam was a bigger baby – 7 ½ pounds to Dean's barely 7. He was longer, too, and had a full head of soft, dark hair where Dean's had been blond and had yet to darken.

Dean had been instantly enamored. That first week, he'd cuddled up to watch Mary feed Sammy, insist that he could help bathe him, and he absolutely had to be there when they put Sam to bed at night. He'd been eager to hold Sam whenever they would let him, which wasn't that often but often enough that he knew where to put his hands without guidance.

Unfortunately, once the novelty had worn off – Dean had never been around babies before, so everything was new – Dean hadn't been nearly as pleased. For all of their talks and explaining things, Dean was still four years old, still firmly attached to his mom, and to have so much of her time taken by a new child just didn't sit well with him.

So now, in addition to a newborn that was up every three hours to eat, they had a four-year-old who was attempting to do the same thing.

Dean had always loved his sleep. If you let him, no matter how early he'd gone to bed he'd sleep past noon, and he'd never turned down a nap in his life. But suddenly, he was up at all hours of the night, insisting he needed to sleep with them, or that he needed a glass of water, or that John hadn't tucked him in right.

Both of them were quickly becoming frazzled. Sam was now almost a month old, and nobody in the house was sleeping through the night. They honestly couldn't take much more, not when he had to be up at five to get to the garage and Mary had to be up all day taking care of the boys.

John shoved the covers down a little and tried to fall asleep next to Mary, who was already asleep. Sam had been down for half an hour, in the crib against the wall. They'd moved it, hoping that the door blocking the baby's crying would make sure Dean slept through the night, but it hadn't worked.

"Daddy?"

John held back a sigh. Of course. "What's up, buddy?"

"I'm thirsty."

"Again?"

Dean just nodded. John pushed the covers aside, careful not to wake Mary or the baby, and took Dean's hand to lead him back downstairs.

After he got Dean a glass of water he made sure he went with him back into his room to make sure he actually slept. Dean did not like that at all, though.

"Why does the baby get to sleep with you?"

"So when he cries Mommy doesn't have to go down the hall to feed him," John explained, pulling back the covers and lifting Dean into bed.

"Can I sleep with you too?"

John sighed and drew back the covers.

"Do you promise to not wake up again, and to make sure you don't wake your mom and the baby?"

"Yes," Dean said, already sliding down and heading for the door. John rolled his eyes, grabbed Dean's bear, and followed.

Dean was already snuggled into the middle of the bed, and Mary's arm came around to cradle him. John handed Dean his bear, and within minutes Dean was out like a light.

John looked at him enviously, and then at the clock, which was flashing 4:45 in cheerful green. John gave up, pulled the covers around Dean and Mary, and went to get ready for work.

* * *

Dean had a drawing waiting for him when he got home the next day, and the little boy looked at him earnestly when he said it was to say sorry for being trouble. John laughed and kissed his head, and took him outside to watch while he changed the Impala's oil. Dean came inside dirtier than John with big, shining eyes and stained jeans, and all Mary did was laugh and let Dean tell her all about it, even though she knew full well how to change the oil.

They all ate dinner, John gave Dean his bath, and it seemed like Dean was perfectly fine.

Right up until bedtime, at least, and then he wasn't tired, was thirsty, his covers were too warm.

Finally, John sat down on the bed beside Dean and said,

"Okay, buddy, this is getting out of hand now. You're going to wake your mom or the baby. Now, you need to sleep in here."

"But it's not fair –"

"Dean." Dean subsided instantly, pouting. "We don't love the baby more than you. It's just easier on your mom to have him sleeping in there. We need you to be a big boy for a little while, okay? Can you do that?"

"Yeah," Dean said grudgingly, shifting to lie down. "I guess."

"Thanks, Dean-o. Now, go to sleep, okay?" John leaned down and kissed him and then pulled the covers over him. "I mean it – no getting up tonight, or you're in big trouble."

"Okay daddy," Dean sighed, eyes drooping already. Dean was as tired as the rest of the house, honestly. John patted his back and left the room, heading towards his own bed and praying that only one of their boys would be up tonight.

* * *

The first of Sammy's feedings, it seemed John's talk had worked. Dean stayed in bed, and they got the baby back down fairly quickly.

The second feeding, around 1 AM, didn't go nearly as smoothly. John thought Dean had slept through this one, but just as Mary got Sam down again, Dean appeared in the doorway, looking cranky.

"Dean," John said, warning in his voice.

"Why's he so _loud_? How am I supposed to be in bed if he's _crying _all the time?" Dean demanded.

"Dean, Sammy was hungry, that's why he was awake," John said, trying to be patient.

"I'm hungry too!" Dean protested immediately.

"Dean –"

"It's not fair! He gets to sleep in here, and be up whenever he wants, but I'm not allowed! It's not fair!"

And that was it. John heard the baby shift in his crib, and then he was crying again. Mary sighed and went to get him, letting John handle Dean.

John went to the door and took Dean's arm, taking him right back to his own room. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd spanked Dean, and he wasn't exactly looking forward to it again, not when this was so obviously about Dean feeling insecure about his place now that he wasn't the only kid in the house.

John sat down on the bed and pulled Dean into the space between his legs.

"Dean, what did I tell you before you went to bed?"

"Not to get up or I'd be in trouble," Dean muttered, looking anywhere but at John.

"And what did you do?"

Dean bit his lip and said, "I got up."

"And you woke the baby up," John chastised. At that, Dean glared at him suddenly and said,

"Who cares about the stupid baby! All it does is sleep and cry and poop!"

"Dean!" John said sharply. "That's what babies do for awhile. That's all you did when you were a baby."

Dean went back to looking at the floor, but his hands were still tight little fists by his side.

"Look, buddy, I know it's hard. But you can't go around making it harder for everyone –"

"I don't _want _a brother no more," Dean interrupted hotly. "Take him back!"

"Dean." John pulled Dean over his lap, his patience finally at an end. "I've told you over and over to stay in bed at night. I warned you specifically tonight that if you got up, you'd be in trouble."

John started spanking firmly, and Dean yelped and wriggled, tiny fists clenched. John had no intention of prolonging this, or making it especially painful, since there were deeper issues he wanted to get to and, honestly, he didn't trust himself in his sleep deprived state. Better to be too easy than too hard, with his little boy over his lap like this.

"Your mom and I are exhausted, Dean, and you must be, too," John continued, spanking lightly over Dean's pajama-clad butt. He landed a particularly hard swat and felt Dean's back shuttering under his palm, and then it was like a floodgate had opened –

"I'm sorry I was bad, 'm sorry, please please don't hate me –"

And just like that, the spanking was over and John was pulling Dean up into his lap and hugging him hard.

"Hey, hey, Dean-o," John said softly, "Where did that come from?"

Dean hid his face in John's neck but John could still understand him when he said,

"If I'm bad, you won't love my anymore now that you have a new kid to love."

John chucked and tugged Dean out to face him.

"Dean," he said, "you were a baby exactly like Sammy. You were loud, and kept us up all night, and we had to change your stinky diapers a _million _times." Dean's eyes widened at that. "If we still love you after that, we're _always _gonna love you."

"Really?"

"Yep. Nothing that you ever do could ever make us stop loving you. Never. You know why?"

"Why?"

John squeezed Dean hard, making him laugh and flail a little. "Because you're my boy. Forever and ever."

Dean hugged him back hard, and then peeked up at him shyly through his bangs.

"But Mommy's always tired now," Dean said softly. "She's always busy with the baby, she never has time for me anymore."

"I know, buddy. I miss her, too. But Sammy needs her more than you and I do right now." Dean fixed him with big, sad eyes, and John sighed and ran a hand through his hair. His eyes drifted to Dean's window, and an idea popped into his head.

"But ya know, since Sammy gets mommy to himself sometimes, guess who you get?"

"Who?"

"Me."

Dean perked up slightly. "You?"

"Yep. Whenever I'm not at work, or mommy doesn't need us, we'll do big boy things together."

"Like fix the Impala?"

"Like fix the Impala," John agreed. "And listen, buddy, I know it's not a lot of fun having a baby around right now, but when Sammy gets bigger, he's gonna think you're the coolest person in the world, like I did with my big brother."

"You did?" Dean asked, looking much more interested now.

"Yep. I followed him around all the time when I was little. Being brothers is special – not everyone has a brother. But once Sammy gets big enough to play, you'll love it, I promise. You just have to be patient, and give your mom and me a break, okay?"

"Okay," Dean sighed, snuggling down into bed and wiping the last traces of tears from his face. "When will he be big enough to play with?"

"Probably not for awhile," John said. "But you'll know when he is, and then we'll go to the park and teach him how to toss a football around."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

* * *

Things got better every day after that – Sam seemed to be sleeping a little longer each night, Dean stayed snuggled safely in his own bed, and John and Mary stopped feeling so much like zombies.

John came home early Friday afternoon to find Mary in the kitchen, no doubt starting to get dinner ready. In front of the TV in the living room, Sam was on his back on a blanket, looking around the room with as much interest as possible for a one-month-old.

And next to Sam, Dean was sitting, one small hand resting on Sam's much smaller chest. He looked up and grinned widely at him. "Look what I can make him do, Daddy!"

Dean used his free hand to run a finger up Sam's tiny foot. Instantly, Sam's face scrunched up and his foot twitched, kicking solidly at Dean's finger. The offended look on his tiny face made John chuckle before he could stop himself.

Dean was definitely getting the hang of being a big brother in one respect, at least. That was better than nothing, right?

"I don't think he likes that, buddy."

"I'm just teasin' daddy," Dean said with a winning smile.

John snorted and shrugged off his jacket.

"Why don't you go and grab Sammy's diaper bag? We'll all go to the park, ok, give your mom a chance to get some fresh air."

"Okay," Dean said happily, levering up onto his knees. Before he went, he dropped a brief kiss on Sammy's face, and the baby gurgled back at him before Dean was gone, into the nursery.

John smiled and went to the couch to wake Mary, heart suddenly lighter. Things were already looking up. He had his wife, and it looked like Dean was adjusting just fine to the new baby.

Things could only get better from here.


End file.
